FOR THE THIRD time in the last twenty-four hours, I found myself standing shoulder to shoulder with Xander inside an elevator, wondering what the hell I was doing there.
I mean, I knew why I was there, but after our blow-up this morning, fuck if I knew why I’d stayed. I’d told myself several times over to just call one of the agencies I’d worked with before, hand off the case, and let this be done with.
Yeah, I was the best option for this, but right now Xander’s life was more in danger from us coming to blows than any pervert tracking him.
This morning had been rough. That was my fault. I’d been pushing Xander, fucking around with him. But instead of brushing me off and walking away like usual, Xander had fired back. And damn, his aim had been spot-on.
Nothing pushed my buttons more than being compared to my brothers. Not because I didn’t think they were stand-up guys—they were two of the best men I knew—but because we’d been pitted against each other our whole lives by a strict father who had aspirations that we follow in his footsteps. Especially his eldest boy.
Fuck, usually I kept that kind of shit to myself. But Xander had gotten under my skin with that jab about not measuring up to Bailey, and now he probably thought I was harboring secret jealous tendencies, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.
I looked at him from out of the corner of my eye to see him scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t said anything since our discussion about his boss, and I had a feeling I’d pissed him off again.
Well, what else was new? It wasn’t like it was a stretch. Lots of people hooked up with their bosses, and it would’ve been shortsighted not to ask. I didn’t see why he was so bent out of shape. Either way, I figured he’d get over it. That was how it always worked with us. I usually did or said something to annoy him, he’d get surly for an hour or so, and then we’d move past it.
It was like a well-rehearsed show we put on whenever we were near one another, which meant the next however many days were going to be a hard sell if we didn’t pull our heads out of our asses, and soon.
“What are you looking at?”
I almost lied and said I wasn’t looking at anything. But that wasn’t my way, so I turned toward him and said exactly what was on my mind. A trait that usually landed me on a person’s shit list. “I was just wondering how long you’re going to be pissed off at me.”
Xander’s eyes narrowed and his expression turned murderous as he lowered his phone and pivoted so we were face to face.
“Me, mad at you? You’re the one who’s been ignoring me for the last however many hours. Don’t start with me.”
I could all but see the steam pouring out of his ears, as he no doubt tried to control his urge to lash out at me. Something I would’ve paid good money to witness, considering how immaculately put together he looked.
In designer jeans, a black button-up shirt, with his hair styled and his jaw clean-shaven, there was nothing out of place about him. Hell, I would’ve even laid bets his briefs were ironed.
“Don’t start wh—”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Xander took a step closer to me. “You, poking at me. Trying to get a rise out of me. We’re about to meet with my boss and coworkers, and I’d rather do that without thoughts of bloody murder on my mind.”
“Hmm, confessing murderous intentions to a detective. And here I always thought you were smart.”
Xander sighed. “Can we just call a truce now? Please? This is us.”
As the elevator doors parted and we stepped out into the lobby, my eyes landed on a wall-sized poster of the man standing to my left, and my jaw nearly hit the floor.
Global News with Alexander Thorne was splashed across the enormous promo poster. But what really caught and held my attention was the striking color of Xander’s eyes in the image, in contrast to his hair.
That had to be photoshopped. Or maybe that was why he colored his hair that gunmetal color, to make his eyes pop.
I glanced over my shoulder to see for myself. “Do you color your hair?”
The appalled look on his face told me that was a definite no. I took a step toward him to get a closer look, but Xander held his hand up. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m looking to see if you’re lying about your hair.”
“And you think you can tell that by what, getting all up in my face?” Xander screwed his nose up. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t plan to, either. It was rude, but that’s nothing unusual for you. Let’s go. Marcus is waiting.”
Xander started off down a long hall. I caught up to him and slipped my hands into my pockets, then I had a thought. “Do you think we should practice holding hands now?”
Xander’s head whipped around so fast that I was surprised he didn’t break his neck. “Quit it, Sean.”
“Quit what?”
“I don’t know, just…quit it.”
When Xander aimed a frosty glare my way, I couldn’t help my broad smile. Finally, we were back to our usual selves.
“Hey, I’m just trying to get into the groove. And at least you’re not thinking about the real reason I’m here now, are you?”
“No. I’m just wishing you were anywhere else.”
I chuckled as we stopped in front of a large desk. A woman wearing thick, purple-rimmed glasses, glanced up and spotted us.
“Alexander.” A cheerful grin that made her eyes twinkle lit up her face. “You can go straight in. He’s expecting you.”
“Thanks, Carmen.” Xander said to me, “Try not to talk too much in there, would you? I find you’re less offensive if you aren’t speaking.”
“Sure thing, Alexander.”
Xander’s eyes flared, and again I was captured by how unusual the shade was. Like the water around a tropical island. They just drew you in and made you want to linger there.
“Okay, so your hair might be real, but you definitely wear contacts, right?”
“What is wrong with you right now? My eyes have always been this color.” The expression on his face relayed what a complete and utter moron he thought I was. “How long have you known me?”
Over thirty years, my brain instantly supplied.
“Let’s go. Marcus doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I nodded and gestured for him to go first, and as he brushed past me, I heard myself say, “You can’t blame me for asking. Your eyes are fucking… Wow. Can’t believe I never noticed them before.”
But then again, I’d never really had a reason to.
11
Xander
YOUR EYES ARE fucking… Wow.
It had been nearly an hour, maybe more, since Sean had whispered that in my ear, and I was still trying to wrap my head around it. I couldn’t decide if it had really happened, or if I was in such a weird headspace after the last twenty-four hours that I was imagining things. It sounded like Sean, but it was not like him to compliment me at all. Especially on something so…personal.
The meeting with Marcus had gone just as I expected. He’d done most of the talking, I’d barely said a word, and then Sean had explained his plan to come on board as my bodyguard in the role of my fake boyfriend.